


Propagation Continued

by CoilingThoughts, IceCladShade



Series: Properties [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: A/B/O of a sort, Dom/sub, Dubious Consent, Gender Change, Kissing, M/M, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Not mind control, Public Blow Jobs, Public Sex, Scent Kink, body control, consensual body modification, mentions of mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2020-05-12
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:01:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21945511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CoilingThoughts/pseuds/CoilingThoughts, https://archiveofourown.org/users/IceCladShade/pseuds/IceCladShade
Summary: This is a continuation of my 'Five Properties of Dragon Cum' fic, expanding the 'Propagation' chapter.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Ron Weasley
Series: Properties [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1580128
Comments: 20
Kudos: 203





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [IceCladShade](https://archiveofourown.org/users/IceCladShade/gifts).



“Petrificus totalus.”

Draco’s arms snapped to his sides as his mouth clicked shut. The castle floor rushed up before him, but strong arms caught him before he could hit it. 

He cast about, eyes rolling wildly as he tried to catch a glimpse of his attacker. Who would dare assault the heir of the Malfoy famiy like this? He couldn’t see them, though, even as they hauled him up on their shoulder like a sack of potatoes. His stomach lurched as he felt the ease with which his attacker manhandled him. He struggled against the bonds of the spell, accomplishing nothing. The bitter taste of panic filled Draco’s mouth. He’d never felt a spell this strong before.

His kidnapper -  _ Oh Merlin, is he going to ransom me to Father? _ \- carried him down a long corridor then turned into an empty classroom, setting the blond-haired Slytherin up against one wall. His forehead rested against the stone. He felt like a board leaned against the wall. 

Something cold touched his neck. With a shiver, the pureblood heir realized that it was the tip of a wand. He was at his captor’s mercy. It wouldn’t take a curse to kill him from there; a first-year’s spell could do it. 

Instead of a deadly spell, however, Draco felt the wand-tip begin to trace down his back, accompanied by the faintest of sounds. It wasn’t until he felt the cold air between his shoulder blades that he realized what was happening: His captor was stripping him, cutting his robe away. Terror mingled with frustration and humiliation, brewing into fury.  _ When I escape _ , he vowed silently,  _ My father will  _ ruin _ you, you dishonorable, low-down, disgusting, perverted- _

The wand reached his ass and pulled away. Draco felt the twin slashes of cutting curses on his arms, then the cloth of his robe falling from his body, leaving him in only his flannel underwear. He felt his cheeks flame, especially when his assailant then proceeded to cut those away too, leaving him bare as the day he’d been born. 

Finally, his assailant spoke. “You’re pretty cute. Must be all that pureblood breeding - is that what they marry you for; to produce the most fuckable little heirs?”

Draco tried in futility to rebut the insult to his house, but the paralysis spell still held him.

“Merlin knows that’s the only thing you’ve got going for you; besides money that is. So I guess they’ve got to work with what they’ve got.” The wand returned to the nape of his neck. “Hold still,” came the voice again, then “Cicatrixus.”

Draco was sure he’d heard it before, but before he could place it the wand tip burned; not searing-hot but like a stab of pins and needles. Slowly, it moved down, then lifted and was replaced at the top, and made shape after shape that he couldn’t guess at. Finally, it was taken away.

“Have you come across that spell before, Malfoy? The tattooing charm. Quick, easy, and pretty close to painless. Nice of me, eh?”

He was mocking him, Draco realized. His captor knew he couldn’t answer and was asking him these tupid questions anyway. When he got out he’d-!

The paralysis fell away suddenly. The pureblood barely caught himself before he faceplanted into the wall. Before he could even get up, though, the voice returned. “Close your eyes.”

Against his own will, Draco’s eyes screwed shut. “Stand up and raise your chin. Keep the rest of you still.” The pureblood felt his body obey, even as he tried to keep it from doing so. If the full body-bind had been torment, this was torture. He could move, he knew it, and yet his own body wouldn’t obey him. 

“Cicatrixus,” came the voice again, and this time Draco felt the wand at his collarbone. This design was much smaller, taking less than half the time of the first.

“Stand with your legs apart, thrust your hips forward and grab your dick and balls so they’re away from your body.” Draco’s body obeyed, his mind a humiliated passenger. A whispered spell, and then the blond-haired wizard felt his pubic hair fall away from his body. “Isn’t that better? All nice and smooth.” The tattooing charm was cast a third time, this time tracing a simple circle around his member and sac. It hurt more this time, owing to the sensitivity of the skin.

“Let yourself go.” Draco did so, gladly this time. “Turn around. Now just stand still. Almost done.”

A final twinge on his left asscheek and the wand was gone. “Now, sleep.”

The pureblood felt tiredness descend on him like a physical weight, bearing him down into slumber.

* * *

Draco awoke with a start, breathing hard. He looked about wildly, but instead of stone walls and desks shoved against them he saw the canopy of his own bed. He breathed a sigh of relief.

It was just a dream. 

As he began to get ready for the morning, the pureblood thought about his dream. It had been so vivid; he could remember every breath of air on his bared skin. 

He retrieved day-clothes from his trunk and began to pull off his pyjamas to change into them when he saw it: an intricate design, seemingly inked in black, right at the base of his throat.

With a growing sense of foreboding, Draco stripped away his nightclothes to reveal that, sure enough, his skin was traced with dark lines - at his collarbone, the back of his neck, beneath and surrounding his dick and, when he twisted over his shoulder, a black mark on his ass. They were aesthetic, working to accentuate his own pale skin, flowing along the lines of bones and muscle. Belatedly, he realized that his body hair was gone too, as if it had never been.

_ Merlin, Morgana and Viviene, it was real _ .

The world seemed to close in on the pureblood. He’d heard of this kind of magic before, binding spells woven into marks on the body. This was the kind of magic the old families sometimes used to bind disobedient heirs or spouses or mistresses - the kind of magic that needed rituals to break, that no simple  _ finite _ could end. And usually part of any such magic was a prohibition against telling… Anyone…

Clumsy in his haste, Draco rushed over to his writing desk and pulled out pen and parchment. He inked the nib and began to write a letter to his father-

Draco came back to himself and looked down at the letter he’d written. 

_ Dear Father _

_ I am writing to tell you that I’ve found my purpose in life. I went into the Forbidden Forest yesterday and was taken by the centaurs to be used as their broodmare. They filled me with their massive horsecocks, and even now my stomach swells with their seed. My arse has been remade by their dicks to serve them. _

_ I will not be returning to Malfoy Manor at the end of this year. _

_ Yours sincerely _

_ Cumslut to the Forbidden Forest tribe _

The pureblood blinked at the parchment before grabbing his wand and turning it to ash. He pulled out another piece and dipped pen in ink-

And he was done. He looked again.

_ Dear Father _

_ I can no longer countenance the derision of muggles by us pureblooded of the ancient wizarding lines. They exceed us entirely in the areas of romance, endowment and sexual prowess, as I discovered when I used the broom you gave me to visit a muggle town.  _

_ I was courted and wed by a handsome boy who made love to me with a cock thrice as thick and long as my own microprick, and with such skill that despite the fact I have never penetrated him or had my dick touched he has never come before me. I wish nothing more than to put my magic at the disposal of my beloved husband for the rest of my life, in whatever manner he sees fit. _

_ Yours  _

_ Draco Freebairn, nee Malfoy _

_ P.S. This is not our actual name; I do not wish you to find us. I know you think you’re doing what’s best for me, but I am happy here. _

The second letter was incinerated the moment he had finished reading. So, the magic not only prevented him from telling others, but mocked him with his own hand. Very well. He would simply have to devise a way out of this predicament himself. He was a Slytherin, after all. He would escape these spellbound shackles, and when he did the one who put them on him would suffer the full wrath of the Malfoy family!

A knock came at the door. “Draco! You’re going to be late for breakfast if you don’t hurry up and get out of there!” It was Blaise’s voice. 

“I shall be there,” doing his best to inject his voice with noble authority, despite his nudity and rising fear. A few minutes later, he was washed, dressed and as composed as he could manage. He left his room and fell in with his year-group as they climbed their way up from the dungeons to the Great Hall. 

As he went, Draco couldn’t help but let his eyes wander, probing every statue’s shadow for a hidden assailant. Logic said that no-one would be likely to ambush him in a group like this, but he was on-edge. He considered telling someone, to see if verbal communication would get past the geas - but no, it would make no sense to keep him from sending a message but let him speak, and all he would likely achieve is utterly humiliating himself before his peers or, worse, his godfather.  _ No _ , Draco decided.  _ I need to find the one that did this to me myself, or somehow get someone to realize I’ve got the spells on me without telling them _ .

Arriving in the Great Hall, Draco made his way with the group over to the Slytherin table and did his best to sink into the familiar rhythm of the day, calming himself. Professor Snape had taken him to task on more than one occasion for his recklessness. He couldn’t afford to act rashly. This was a conflict in which his life and freedom were at stake.

He managed it, pretty much. As he ate, the pureblood scanned the throng of students, mentally running through his list of adversaries and the family alliances and feuds. Who would both want to and had access to the magic to do this kind of thing? He watched as the other houses trickled in in ones and twos and little knots of people. 

He didn’t see Potter anywhere, but the Boy-Who-Lived was practically a muggleborn for all his heritage. He’d never know how to lay that kind of spell, and he was far too  _ righteous _ besides. He did spy a group of three together, though, who he knew to be Potter’s dormmates - information purchased from an older Slytherin, thence gained from a ‘friend’ in Ravenclaw who had a sister in Gryffindor. Neville Longbottom he recognized at once, but it took a moment longer to recall the names of the others; a halfblood, Seamus Finnigan, and a mudblood, Dean Thomas. 

Something was up with them, though. Draco didn’t remember the mudblood being so tall or broad, nor the other two so…  _ cute _ was the word that came to mind. It was difficult to really tell at this distance, but they seemed to reflexively defer to the dark-skinned wizard, and when he sat down they took places on either side, seeming to  _ snuggle up _ to the muggleborn.

“What’re you looking at?” Blaise asked, a knowing twinkle in his eye. Draco had to fight down a blush. “The enemy,” he replied dramatically, deftly spearing a sausage. 

“If you say so,” Blaise said. 

Draco had almost managed to put the odd trio out of his mind when an owl swooped down and deposited a folded note in his lap. It winged away back into the indistinct haze of the Hall’s enchanted roof before he could identify it. 

Draco narrowed his eyes. That was strange, and given what was going on…

He pulled out his wand and whispered a spell to check for curses, jinxes or other magic. It came back clean, revealing only the kind of animation magic used on wizarding photographs. With trepidation, the pureblood opened the envelope and unfolded the paper within. 

For a moment, he almost didn’t process what he saw; the veins, the rigid shaft, the soft fuzz of trimmed hair at the base, the red head peeking out from under its hood. Then the motion began; a hand appearing from out of frame and beginning to luxuriantly stroke the cock backhand. 

“Really, Draco? At the dinner table? For shame.”

Blaise’ voice broke into the blond’s thoughts. He slammed the note folded again, realizing that he’d been staring - and that even the brief glimpse had gotten him rock-hard. 

The other Slytherin was looking at him with a sly smirk. “Is  _ that _ why you were so late in last night?”

Draco was still scrabbling for a rebuttal, mind lost somewhere between panic and lingering in desperate lust over what he’d seen, when his body moved on its own, nodding then speaking. “You wouldn’t believe how  _ full _ he made me feel. I can’t wait for him to breed me again, use me as his little boytoy.” 

“Alright, thirsty-boy. Ever heard of too much information?”

Draco’s cheeks burned, and he almost set the damnable thing on fire - but he managed to master the impulse and merely crumpled it in his fist before slipping it into his robe. “I’ll see you later,” he said brusquely, getting up and stalking out of the hall and towards his first class.

As Charms wore on, the picture in his pocket weighed on Draco’s mind - and, distressingly, his dick. It just wouldn’t go down! All through Charms and Mad-Eye Moody’s Defense Against the Dark Arts he stayed hard as a rock, and whenever he tried to pull his mind away to something else, to concentrate on the lesson or try to work out who his assailant was it inevitably came back around to the almighty cock in the picture. 

He had no doubt that it was sent by the same person that had enchanted him, but to what end? Mockery? Taunting him with his own impotence? Certainly, what the magic had forced him to say to Blaise had been exactly the kind of blow to his reputation he’d been trying to avoid.

Eventually, Defense ended, giving way to a break for lunch. Draco ate quickly, then, having given up on the damned thing going down on its own, retreated to his room to try the other method of taming his rebellious dick. 

After locking the door behind him and activating its silencing Charm, the pureblood surprised himself with his own ardour as he shucked off his robe, pulled down his pants and sat on the side of his bed, beginning to stroke his painfully-hard member. He tried to concentrate on just getting off as quickly as possible, keeping it businesslike and efficient. Usually it didn’t take too long for him to come - he was a lord, after all, and it was beneath him to do such things regularly. As the minutes wore on, though, he began to beat off more quickly. His erection remained firm as ever, precum slicking his hand’s movements, but the orgasm just. Wouldn’t. Come. 

Before long, the pureblood was frantically pumping his shaft. The sensation burned through him like fire, drawing pants and moans from his open mouth, but he couldn’t  _ finish. _

Draco looked at his wall-clock. Still half an hour left. 

He tried imagining things, picturing a faceless, beautiful pureblood girl to fuck - but that did nothing. Next he tried a man; handsome, fine of features and round of ass. Even that didn’t do anything for him.

The damned picture drifted into his mind again, that monumental pillar being roughly stroked in long, smooth motions. Unwillingly, his thoughts flickered to what he could do with the thing. What would it… taste like? What would it feel like to  _ take _ in his ass?

His dick jumped, responding to the thought as it hadn’t to all his ministrations. Draco thought of his wand. Casting the cleaning and lubricating spells would take but a moment…

But no. He  _ refused _ to lower himself like that. Refused to so easily submit to his enemy.

It was a frustrated, still hard and somewhat raw student who slouched into Professor Binns’ class that day, though the ghost cared little. Normally, Draco made use of the period to do homework or idly consider one thing or another, but for now he had a mission: to discover the identity of his attacker. The only clue he had was the picture.

Claiming a seat towards the back corner, Draco sat down as Binns began his lecture. He pulled out a book, then the slightly-crumpled picture and laid it down on top of the pages. Once again, his own cock jumped in response to the sight, though instead of stroking the hands seemed to be more showing off - measuring the length and waving it as if to demonstrate its sheer size. Draco could practically  _ hear _ the silent ‘Don’t you want it?’ going along with the motions.

Some part of Draco wondered how big it was, that two hands together didn’t encompass the whole manhood. The rest of him did its best to put that thought out of mind and concentrate on any clues that the image might yield.

The hands wore no rings, bracelets or other items, and the dick didn’t seem to have any piercings or similar. The background seemed to simply be wooden floorboards, varnished dark and worn smooth, which could be almost anywhere. However, when he looked closer, Draco noticed something: the bush was  _ ginger _ .

Unusual hair colours weren’t all that odd in the Wizarding World (changing it was easy as casting a spell, after all) but there was a family known for the trait - a family of Gryffindors, of whom at least one had it in for Draco. 

_ Ron Weasley’s a dunce, though _ , the pureblood tried to convince himself.  _ There’s no way he could cast that magic _ . Somehow it rang hollow, though. The Twins were certainly more magically capable, but for all that they were vicious pranksters, this didn’t really seem their style. Percival Weasley didn’t even merit thought - too straight-laced.

Draco cast a glance over to where the youngest male Weasley was lounging back in his chair - and started. He hadn’t really registered it when coming in, but Weasley had definitely grown since the last time he’d seen him before the Christmas holidays. Where he had been slim, now his biceps strained the limits of his T-shirt. Where he had been a particularly pasty example of a teen, now he was tall enough that the pureblood was pretty sure he’d have to strain upwards to look him in the eyes. And where before Draco had had no problems with distraction from the Weasley, now his eyes drifted inexorably down towards his crotch and the bulge visible there even through the loose jeans he wore.

“Fuck,” Draco heard himself mutter. 

It seemed as though the bastard had heard him, because he turned and put his hand over his crotch in a motion that could be construed as casual and  _ grinned _ . The bastard. 

By the end of class, Draco was fuming. He’d had to spend an entire two hours just  _ sitting _ there, knowing that the cur who’d done this to him was just across the room, and mocking him besides. He had to be; why else would his hard-on have raged as it had, his body flushed, his mind wandered to what it would feel like to have that massive, muscled form on top of him?

When Binns finally called the end of the day, the students flooded out of the classroom. Draco hung back, waiting for his opponent to make a move. Sure enough, Weasley took his time packing up his books and quills. But instead of turning to address Draco, he stepped out into the corridor trailing the pack, as though he, Draco Malfoy, wasn’t worth his time. 

Furious, the blond stormed after him, catching up a little ways down the corridor. “Weasley-!” he shouted, but didn’t get any further before the taller boy turned and grabbed his outstretched wand-hand. There was a whirl of motion, and suddenly Draco found himself slammed up against the cold stone wall, facing the grinning bastard. Something filled the air, smokey and enticing. Draco’s mouth went dry.

“You’re that eager for a kiss, are you?”

Once more, Draco found his body moving without his input as the red-haired wizard leaned down, craning up to meet his lips. A moment later, though, the time for lips had passed as Weasley pushed past them with his tongue, dominating Draco’s mouth as he pushed him up against the wall. A knee rose between his legs, pressing hard against his insistent boner. 

The blond moaned unwillingly into the kiss as his dick was stimulated. His ears reddenned as he heard the whispers spreading. Even as the power of the tattoos faded and Draco felt his body return to his control, though, he didn’t pull away. Something about the smell, the force of Weasley, the situation, set him alight.

In the end, it was Weasley who ended the impromptu makeout session, pulling away as Draco chased him, panting. The larger wizard pushed him back into the wall with a hand on his chest, casting a searing glare at the tittering spectators. They scattered, leaving Draco alone with him in the corridor.

“You want those spells off you, Malfoy, all you’ve gotta do is take me to your room. I swear it on my name.”

Making a split-second decision, the Slytherin turned and began to lead the other downwards, towards the dungeon. Perhaps it was foolish, but Weasley had been honest before. He was raised by the ‘light’ side, after all. Perhaps he was regretting using such ‘dark magic’ on the Malfoy heir? And he’d sworn on his name; the most sacred of Wizarding vows but an unbreakable one.

By and by, they came to the entrance to the Slytherin common room. Glancing up at Weasley, Draco firmed his resolve and spoke the password. A section of wall yawned open, revealing the room beyond. There were only a couple of occupants, but Draco felt their eyes on him as he led Ron - no, dammit,  _ Weasley _ \- up from the bottom floor, towards his bedroom.

Draco reached the door first, unlocking it. He went to stand aside for the Gryffindor, but the taller man pushed him ahead and closed the door behind him. Draco stumbled forwards and landed on the bed, catching himself on his hands. Standing up again, he turned to see Weasley sliding the bolt across the door. The red-haired man crossed the room and sank down into Draco’s good chair. 

“So, here’s how this is going to go,” he began. Draco opened his mouth to protest, but as silenced by a casual “Shut up. As you are now, you’re mine.” The word sends a shiver through the Slytherin’s body. “If I wanted, I could have you strip off and bare your arse to me like a bitch in heat. But I’m not interested in keeping you as a puppet, only doing stuff that I tell you to. So we’re going to stay here, in your room, and I’m going to let you do what you want. I’m not going to do anything to you you don’t ask me to. If you keep your hands off me for an hour and a half, I’ll remove all the spells but the one keeping you from telling people and leave you to do what you want. Understand? You can speak now.”

“I-I understand,” Draco said.

“Good. Be quiet again, then. If you do touch me, I’ll let you do what you want, then fuck you into that bed until you scream my name and can’t remember your own - then you’re mine until I decide otherwise. I’ll listen to what you want me to do to you and take into consideration what you don’t. Try to leave before time’s up or attack me… well, you won’t like what happens. Understand?”

Draco nodded, then said rebelliously, “Like I’d ever want a  _ pauper _ like you, Weasley. I bet you couldn’t even afford to keep me.”

Ron shrugged nonchalantly, flicking his wand and conjuring a glowing clockface. “I’m sure you’ll be willing to pay up, ponce. Anyway, time starts now.” The clock’s hands began to move.

“So, I need to…  _ not  _ do anything to you… sexually?”

“Yup.” The bastard had the temerity to grin confidently, like he was certain Draco would succumb. The Slytherin ground his teeth, then stalked over to his bookshelf and picked out one of the volumes. “Fuck you. I won’t even  _ look _ at you, Weasley.” So saying, he sat himself down on the bed and opened the book. He barely bit back a grimace - of all the books he could have picked, why did it have to be Molton’s  _ Record of the Ministers _ ? A drier text he was sure he didn’t have.

“Care to make that the stake, snake?” Draco glanced over towards the Gryffindor. His eyes darted immediately downwards. Weasley had opened his legs where before they had been crossed and - yes, he can definitely make out the outline of his bulge. Distressingly, that same outline made it clear that he was, at most, half-hard.

With an effort and a burn of humiliation, Draco dragged his eyes upwards, dreading what he’d find there. Indeed, the redhead’s eyes were knowing, the cast of his jaw smug. He looked away, trying to focus back on the book, but he could feel the weight of other’s eyes on him. His mind conjured images of the rugged wizard’s gaze roaming over his body, picturing his clothes coming off. Once again his dick twitched in his pants. He gritted his teeth. He would endure this, for his freedom.

_ When I’m free _ , some mutinous train of thought broke in,  _ I wonder if he’d still be interested. _

Draco quashed the thought ruthlessly, bringing his mind back to the life and times of the forty-fifth Minister for Magic. He wanted  _ nothing _ to do with the perverted sod who’d spelled him into all-but slavery. If his body seemed interested, that was just the magic.

Minutes crept by, agonizingly slowly. His eyes kept flickering to the other wizard’s 

The sound of shifting fabrics yanked his head back around as if it were on a cord. Ron was slipping his hands underneath his t-shirt and lifting, exposing a band of rippling muscle beneath. Speechless, the Slytherin watched as the shirt was pulled up, up, up, showing off abs that seemed to run on forever. 

Then, abruptly, they ended, giving way to two mouth-watering pectorals. A wild thread of imagination pictured pillowing his head on the swells of muscle. Finally, the shirt came off completely, tossed carelessly away. Draco didn’t see where it landed, eyes too occupied with tracing the contours of the Gryffindor’s newfound musculature.

“Sure you don’t wanna get a better look, Snake?”

Draco came back to himself, only then realizing that he’d put the book down and half-crawled off the bed. He caught himself, shaking his head against the honey-dripping chuckles of the  _ damned bastard _ . 

_ No, Draco. Just stay strong.  _

Minutes passed once more, but the Slytherin couldn’t help but glance up at the rolling muscles every now and again. Every time he did, he was met with mocking eyes and a smirk that slowly grew. 

Then there was a sound of something shifting again. Draco looked up once more to find Ron standing. He glanced at the clock. Only fifteen minutes had passed since the hour had begun.  _ That can’t be right _ . 

“So, I was thinking,” the Gryffindor began, the sheer physicality of him seeming to fill the room. “I haven’t really been straight with you, have I?”

Draco almost missed the next words, because the ginger had slipped his hands into his trousers, and was teasingly pushing down the hem, revealing more sparks in his treasure tail, and even more of the sculpted stomach. “I should tell you what I’m gonna do with you - or rather what you’re gonna do for me.”

Draco’s mouth was dry. The hem inched downwards.

“Once you break, you’re going to want me to touch you, to let you taste my cock, to lift you up and fucking  _ impale _ you. But I’m not going to.” A hand moved to the Gryffindor’s fly and popped the top button. “I’m going to get you to strip off, sit yourself at that desk and sign a contract. You’re gonna sign over everything to me - your money, your rights, your shit,  _ everything _ \- and only then will I let you taste my cock.” The zipper was agonizingly slow as it came undone, each tooth seeming to take an age. The material of the briefs beneath was white and strained with the sheer  _ mass _ of what it was trying to keep contained. And  _ still _ , from the shape of it, the Gryffindor’s cock was soft. 

_ Merlin and Morgana _ , Draco found himself thinking.  _ I don’t think I could hold that with both hands.  _ The mental image consumed his mind, cock and balls spilling between his fingers.

“You’re gonna make yourself my slave, my pet, my fucking  _ toy _ . You’ll be whatever I fucking want you to be, snake.” The zipper came to an end, and the trousers went down. God, Ron’s thighs were works of fucking art, pure sculpted muscle. “You like that idea? Answer me truthfully.”

“Yes!” The word was pulled from the Slytherin’s mouth like a fish on a hook. Draco blushed red as the other’s house colours. He didn’t want that! 

And then the images came. Himself, sleeping with his mouth wrapped around that  _ monster _ . Himself, wearing only what he was given. Himself, handing over his allowance to be used as another wanted. The visions sent sparks through his body, straight to his cock. 

“You like that, you little fucking bitch. You know your fucking place, don’t you? Here, take these.”

Draco opened his eyes -  _ When did I close them? _ \- to see something black flying at his face. In a panic, he stretched out his arms to catch whatever it was. His hands met rough fabric, and with a start he realized Weasley had tossed his trousers at him. He lowered the garment from in front of his eyes, and was greeted with a sight that hit him like a punch to the stomach.

The Gryffindor was built like an Atlantean statue, every inch sculpted muscle and sinew - and there wasn’t much left to cover it up. Only a pair of far-too-thin briefs that clung to every minute contour - Merlin, Morgana, Vivienne and  _ Mordred _ he could see the  _ veins _ .

And, of course, he could see the size of the manhood kept barely-constrained by that thing fabric. Some part of him clinically noted that it still couldn’t be more than half-hard, going by the shape of it, but the rest of him was occupied with far less coherent thoughts. 

“Why don’t you just come over here to get a better look, if you’re so interested?” Weasley palmed his monstrous cock through the briefs. Draco found himself inching forwards, off the bed. 

“You sure you wanna give it up right here?”

The words brought him up short. “D-don’t you want that, Weasley?”

“Oh, sure. But I want us  _ both _ to know it was  _ you _ that chose it.” The Gryffindor fell backwards into the chair once more, keeping his legs spread wide. “Though I won’t count it against you if you wanna give those a good sniff,” he continued, waving an absent hand towards the trousers which Draco still kept clutched tight.

Almost before he realized, the pureblood had brought the material up to his face and was inhaling the scent, drawing the thick, manly musk deep into his lungs.

“Now, wanna get it from the source, snake?”

Draco looked up, and couldn’t help a pang of longing. “N-no.”

“You sure? You sure you don’t wanna strip off, get down on your knees and worship me like your fucking god?” The damned  _ pauper _ spread a hand over his crotch and gently squeezed his member. 

Draco let out a little whimper at the thought. 

“Here ya go - wanna have a look at the conditions?” With his other hand, the Gryffindor tossed a sheet of rolled paper over towards the bed. Draco caught it and unfurled it, eyes flicking down the neat type.

“This is a slave pact!"

“Yup,” Weasley acknowledged flippantly. “Told you already, didn't I? Convenient of you purebloods to have that kinda shit already written up. You know what’s really interesting, though? I had a look around, and the clauses in there ain’t much different to those in a marriage agreement - at least, the traditional kind. So, you’d probably have ended up signing something like this anyway, and with someone you might not care about at all.

“So, what’s better: To sign it now, knowing what you’re getting into, or to wait a few years, sign it then, and miss out on all  _ this _ ?” So saying, the Gryffindor flexed his arm, causing the bicep to bulge and Draco’s mouth to dry.

“P-pass me the pen,” he whispered.

“What was that?”

“I said give me the fucking pen!”

The muscled man stood and walked over to the desk, giving the Slytherin a delightful view of his tight-cupped ass. He picked up the pen, turning back towards the bed. “Sure you want it? Don’t wanna make a decision we’ll regret, do we?”

Draco took a steadying breath. “I want it. Give it here.” 

Thankfully, the Gryffindor did. Taking it in hand, the pen suddenly felt like it weighed a ton. Was this right? Should he really do this?

The pureblood looked up at the presence looming over him, the sculpted topography of muscle and manhood. 

Flattening out the paper, he signed. He looked up again to see a beaming smile. “That’s a good pet. Now, does pet want a treat?”

Draco climbed to his knees on the bed and shuffled forwards, suddenly unsure. He’d never done anything like this before. 

“Come on, pet. Pull them down,” the Gryffindor said, guiding Draco’s hands with his own. Fingers slipped beneath the waistband, then tugged. All at once the shaft was revealed, base nestled in a neat nest of orange curls. “Go on.”

Hesitantly, Draco moved his head forwards, extended his tongue and got his first taste of his master.


	2. 5: Changes

Draco awoke and surprised himself with how warm, sore and  _ good _ he felt. A moment later, as his senses started to put things together beyond the vaguest impressions and sensations, he registered the fact that he was naked, that there was a thick, muscular arm draped over him and holding him into what felt like a warm, muscular chest, and that whoever it was had apparently kept their cock in him overnight, because he could feel the hot, hard mass of it inside.

The Slytherin’s memories of the night before came rushing back, and he flushed hotly as he recalled how he had begged and submitted to the lowborn Gryffindor, how he’d handed over his rights to his money, to  _ himself _ \- and the worst (or best) part of it all was that he didn’t regret a moment. He wouldn’t go back for all the world, because now… well, now he was an omega, and Ron was his alpha, and he knew what that  _ meant _ .

“Mmm,” came a low, sultry voice. “Has my pretty little bitch woken up?”

Reflexively, Draco’s ass clenched on the cock nestled comfortably there, drawing a groan from his bedmate. “Want me to fuck you stupid again, huh?”

Draco remembered that, the haze of all-consuming pleasure that had left him unable to do anything but drool and moan. “Uh, yes alpha.” He clenched down again.

“Plenty of time for that, Malfoy,” Ron said. “Now that you’ve taken your proper place, there’s a few changes that we need to make, just so you can serve your alpha better.” Ron said, lightly rocking his cock back and forth inside Draco. “There are a few potions you’ll be brewing for me. I figure Snape wouldn’t mind if his precious snake stole some things from his stores.”

An involuntary whine came from Dracon when Ron pulled his cock out,. His hole felt almost unbearably empty. He rolled over to look at his alpha, seeing that Ron had retrieved his wand. Before he could say anything, a dark blue spell shot at Draco and the emptiness in his ass vanished, replaced by an unyielding harness. A hand shot to his now filled hole, finding something rubbery and soft sticking out from between his cheeks. 

“A bitch needs a tail.” Ron said to him, before grabbing his discarded pants and slipping them on. “And this way you’ll carry my load all day.”

“T-thank you, alpha,” Draco said, reaching curiously behind himself. Sure enough, his hand met a rubbery tail. To his surprise, though, that wasn’t the only sensation that the contact produced. He also felt his hand on his tail and - yes, he could move it, too. As soon as he worked that out, the tail started wagging furiously, drawing a chuckle from Ron, who was pulling on his t-shirt. “Who’s a good doggie?”

“I am, alpha!” Draco replied immediately, unable to keep himself from grinning ear to ear at the praise. He spared a thought for wonder at how quickly he had changed - only yesterday, Weasley saying something so uncouth to him would have driven him to challenge him to a duel, or send an immediate letter to his father.

“That’s right. Now, my cute little doggie should put his robe on, because he’s going out for walkies.” Draco nodded and climbed off the bed, heading across the room to his chest of drawers. He made sure to push his butt out as he went, but was stopped by a hand grabbing his exposed tail. 

“Ah-ah-ah. Robe only. That’s all you need to go out in public without people talking, and from now on you’re not going to wear more than you need, or I say. Got it?”

“Yes, alpha!” In all honesty, the thought of going about his day wearing nothing under the loose Hogwarts robe made his cock twitch and leak, and his tail wag even harder. 

“God, you are so cute like that,” Ron said. “Maybe I should add a potion for a real tail to the set. Maybe puppy ears, too.”

“Whatever you want, alpha!” Draco said, pulling on his robe and buttoning up the front. “Um. Do you mind if I ask what the potions are for?”

“A few changes. I need to be sure you’re sturdy enough for a rough fuck. Make you a bit more curvy. There’s some other stuff, but that can stay a surprise I think,” Ron said, gesturing for Draco to leave the room. He obeyed happily, ignoring the stares he got as he descended to the common room, which only intensified as Ron left the room after him. After they left through the password door, Ron drew ahead. Draco trotted happily behind, his eyes never leaving his alpha’s muscular form and broad shoulders. 

As they approached Snape’s office, Ron stopped and leaned against the wall, gesturing Draco forward. “Go and tell him you want to practice your brewing. Make sure he’s not going to come by and tell him nothing about me. If you fail then I’ll have to think of a punishment for you - and it won’t be the fun kind.” Leaving no room for reply, he turned and walked away, pausing at the corner of the corridor to say “Come get me once he says you can use the lab.”

Draco nodded to the empty corridor, then turned to the door. He took a moment to steel himself - even if Severus was his godfather, he was very… intense - before knocking once. He stood back from the door and waited, passing the time by clenching and unclenching on the tail-plug in his ass. Fun as it was, the plug just didn’t compare to his alpha’s cock, much less his knot. 

“Did you disturb me to stand gawking outside my door, godson mine, or did you have a  _ reason _ for knocking?”

Draco was dragged abruptly back to reality by the sharp tones of the potions teacher, who stood framed in the doorway. He was pathetically thankful for the clause in the indentured servitude contract which protected the mind of the servant from legilimency save by the master. “Oh- no, Severus. I had something to ask you.”

“Ask away, then.”

“Uh - I wanted to ask if I could-”

“Get to the point, boy,” Severus snapped, though in the more playful way he reserved for those he regarded well. Draco took a moment to pull himself together and form his words before he spoke them

“May I use Potions Lab number Four for today?”

“You may,” Snape said, “Provided that you exercise the care I know you are capable of. That said, why do you wish this? You are a competent student of brewery, but I have never known you to exercise such initiative in pursuing its practice.”

Draco cast about for an excuse. “I wanted to practice the calming draught you taught us yesterday,” he answered.

One eyebrow rose like the blade of a guillotine. “Your calming draught was quite acceptable.”

“Acceptable is not ideal,” said Draco. 

“This is true. Very well - it is a simple enough potion, and your demonstrated competence in its brewing suffices to assure me that no disaster is likely to befall you. Provided, of course, that you keep those two oafs your father assigned you as,” he paused just long enough to encapsulate an unfathomable depth of irony “Bodyguards away from anything which might  _ possibly _ go wrong.”

“I will, Severus,” Draco replied.

“I  _ shall _ ,” the professor corrected. “Oh, and Draco?”

“Yes?”

“I care not one whit for your proclivities, but your father may have something to say about wandering around the castle with nothing on but your robes.” The door closed. 

Draco felt his face flush bright red, but quickly shook it away, not wanting to know just how his godfather had caught onto the fact how underdressed he actually was. He made his way to where Ron was waiting, finding his alpha pouring over a book with a look of concentration on his face. 

“Good, that didn’t take too long. Lead the way,” Ron said. Draco took of, heading to the lab he had permission to use, locking the door once he and Ron had entered, casting a charm on the door that would alert him if anyone approached from the other side. 

Turning to Ron, he found several scraps of parchment waiting. “This shouldn’t take too long. Only one needs to simmer and the others are pretty simple.” With an eager nod, Draco took the offered instructions and went to start brewing. He quickly lost himself in the process of preparing and mixing ingredients into the three cauldrons. The first and second potion were quickly finished, one a bright shimmery gold and the second a dark red. The third was set to simmer, taking an hour before the final ingredient could be added.

The moment all was in order, Draco heard his alpha say something, and then his robe started undoing itself. Buttons flew open, until finally the garment flew off entirely, leaving him bare but for his plug. He turned, eyes questioning why Ron had done this.

“Stand up straight,” the alpha said, “And come over here a bit. While that’s cooking, I wanna try out a few different looks on you.”

“I-isn’t that what the potions are for?”

“For the permanent stuff, yeah. This is just transfiguration.” He waved his wand, a casual motion, and a plane of air congealed into a mirror. In the reflective surface, Draco could see the dark lines of the spellwork from before. Then he shot a second spell at him. The omega felt his tail shrink, dwindling away to nothing, though the plug remained. The loss felt strangely profound, though he’d only had the tail for maybe half an hour. His look must have said it all, because Ron smiled. “Don’t worry, puppy. You’ll have your tail back. Now, stand still.”

Draco obeyed, fidgeting only a little as his alpha’s gaze raked up and down his body. A muttered spell later and he felt his ears prickling, like pins and needles. His hands rose to feel what was happening, but a barked “Stay,” froze him in place. It was the same magic as before, and Draco’s cock twitched at the clear demonstration of the power his alpha held over him, weeping clear precum from his slit. Looking in the mirror, he saw that his ears had migrated to the top of his head and were stretching out into pointed, furry things - puppy ears.

“Hmm, that does look good on you,” Ron said. Another spell, and Draco felt a prickling sensation at the base of his spine. Moments later, a familiar sensation returned. Sure enough, when he looked in the mirror he had grown a fluffy dog’s tail, which was wagging furiously. “You do make a good puppy. Still, I think you’re better as a bitch, and for that you’re still missing a few things.”

The alpha stood, stepping closer until he towered over Draco. He put his wand to one of the omega’s nipples and murmured a spell. The same prickling sensation began again, moving lower as the tip of the wand traced downwards. A few moments later, Ron cast the spell again and did the same, and then again. Then he repeated the same procedure on the other side. Finally, he stepped away, allowing Draco to see his handiwork. Down each side of his torso stretched a line of dusky nipples - the two he had had beforehand, though now in the mirror he saw they were larger and noticeably more swollen than they had been, and three more down each side. 

“A-alpha?” Draco said, moaning from the increased sensations flooding his mind. Ron quickly cast another spell, sending a light breeze at Draco. Normally it would have been ignored, hardly noticed as it passed over him, but now with six extra nipples, all swollen and sensitive, the light caress of cool air had him moaning, his cock throbbing harder and nipples going erect, slick began to flow down his legs. Behind him, his tail started wagging even faster at the feeling.    
  
“Such a needy bitch. All ready to suckle, aren’t you?” Ron said, his hands going to grab at two of his nipples, giving them a quick tweak and eliciting a moan, along with a squirt of thick white milk, coming from the pert buds. The liquid wasn’t left to trickle down the omega’s chest for long, though, as the alpha bent in to lick it up to the nipples, then fastened his lips around the pink buds and sucked sharply. Draco moaned at the feeling, then became louder as Ron took hold of two of his other nipples and twisted. It was painful, but somehow the pain sparked pleasure, and those teats began to weep milk as well. “Or maybe I should just tie you up somewhere and have you make milk for me all day. Or knock you up so these,” he pulled again “Can be put to their proper use.”

Draco flushed scarlet at the thought of becoming pregnant with his alpha’s children, of swelling with new life given him by the new centre of his world. “C-could you really do that?”

“Sure,” Ron said nonchalantly. “Not without a bit of extra magic, but I could fill you up with my kids. Why? Would you like that, puppy?”

“Yes!” Draco surprised himself with his own vehemence. 

“Well, we’re gonna have to wait a bit before we can really do that, but one day I’ll get you nice and fat with my pups.”

“I can’t wait, alpha.” He meant it.

“For now, though, let’s try out a few more shapes, shall we?”

“Okay! Though…?”

“Yes?”

“Can I keep the tail?”

Ron blinked, then smiled. “Alright, puppy.”

* * *

An hour and several different shapes later, the potion was ready. Draco, still naked, was measuring it into a cup for drinking, though there was plenty left over - the potion had a minimum size in which batches could be made. His bodily tail had eventually, to much protest, been banished, though he’d gotten the tail on his plug back in recompense. All other alterations were undone in preparation for what was to come. 

“Take the red one first,” Ron said. Obediently, Draco picked up the first cup and swallowed it in one go. It tasted salty, and burned as it went down. A moment passed, then the omega felt all his muscles convulse at once. It was only his alpha’s murmured “Stay.” that let him remain upright as the draught’s magic burned through him. An eternal moment later the convulsions stopped and Ron released the magic, leaving Draco to slump against the desk, breathing heavily. His body felt heavier than before, and tired, as if he’d run for days and lifted a hippogriff. 

Without a word, his alpha handed him the golden potion. Almost the opposite of the first, it was light and shimmery, smelling of something fruity. As he drank it, he felt his body change once more. This time, the sensation was gentler, though no less strange, lending him an odd feeling of  _ plasticity _ . His balance seemed to shift, a faint ache as he changed in a way he couldn’t place. 

Opening his eyes - when had he closed them? - Draco saw the appreciative look Ron was giving him. Looking over at the mirror-spell still hanging in the air, he saw why. His build, which had transformed from simply scrawny to curvy and feminine overnight, had changed once more. Now, what had been soft had become hard, his stomach shaping itself into toned abs, his pecs gaining definition and his arms swelling with understated, shapely muscle. Even his cock had changed, becoming both longer and thicker than it had been even before he had become an omega. The space where his balls had been was still smooth, though.

“Very nice. Just one more potion for you, bitch,” Ron said, handing him the third brew, which shimmered through a rainbow of colours second by second. Trusting his alpha’s judgement, Draco swallowed it too, bracing for any changes. A moment passed, though, and nothing happened. A pang of mortification struck through him. Had he brewed it wrong, he wondered, looking at the other doses he’d made? Before he could ask his alpha if anything was wrong, though, Ron fired a spell from his wand, and his lips began to tingle and swell. 

“That last one was to prep your body for more permanent changes. Prepares it to accept transfiguration and incorporate it permanently. Not so good for major stuff, but good for little changes. Now, stay, puppy.”

A second spell spread over Draco’s scalp in a tingling wave, and a third struck his crotch. Looking in the mirror, the Slytherin watched his hair grow more golden-blond, and balls sprouted once more behind the base of his cock, though they stayed smallish and smooth. A fourth and fifth spell were cast on his pecs, and the omega was suddenly almost overcome by their sudden sensitivity, letting out a low moan. The hypersensitivity faded after a moment, but they remained more tender than before. A sixth spell was traced around his neck, to the same effect. Then, Ron released the magic holding Draco in place.

“Get on hands and knees,” he said. “Show me your cute little tail.”

Draco scrambled to obey, dropping to the floor instantly and thrusting his ass out. His tail wagged eagerly. 

“Legs apart, puppy.”

The Slytherin did so, shuffling on his knees until his legs were as wide as they could go. He felt the telltale tingling impact of the sensitivity spell spread through his newly-returned balls and hairless perineum.

“Stand up, hands behind your head.” Ron ordered him. Draco complied, scrambling to follow as quickly as he could. He could feel his new muscles flex as he changed position, his chest hanging heavier that it had before, his legs moving further apart that he was used to from his larger thighs and juicier ass. He stood still, Ron walking around him for a moment before moving in front of Draco again.

A hand grabbed his chin, forcing him to turn his head. “Looking good bitch.” He sank in for a brief, deep kiss, tongue dominating the omega’s submissive mouth. “Now, I’m hungry. Follow.” So saying, he turned and headed for the door. Draco obeyed, moving as if to spell the room clean before remembering that he’d left his wand in his bedroom, so desperate had he been to obey his master. He settled for grabbing his robe, pulling it on as he stepped into the corridor and buttoning it up as he trotted along to catch up to his alpha.

“What d’you want for breakfast, bitch?” Ron asked, throwing the words backwards over his shoulder.

“Um, I’m not really hungry,” Draco said, realizing as he said it that that was a little strange. He hadn’t had dinner last night, after all.

“Hmm. Musta been all that cum I gave you,” the alpha concluded. “Anyway, that bein’ the case, how about we try something out? Strip off.”

Draco paused with his hands at his collar. They weren’t in the dungeons anymore, having ascended into the school proper. No-one was in sight right now, but that could change at any moment. Then he realized he was being silly - his alpha knew best, after all. He pulled the robe off, dropping it to the floor. Ron drew out his wand and tapped Draco on the head with it. A cool sensation, like dripping water, spread from the top of his scalp to the soles of his feet, and when he raised his hands he realized that he had become see-through, only a faint distortion in the air to mark where his body was.

“I’m gonna go in there and get some breakfast - I didn’t get a good meal last night, courtesy of you. You’re gonna make that up to me by keeping my cock warm under the table. Sound good?”

Draco nodded, before realizing that his alpha might not be able to see. “Yes, alpha! I won’t take my mouth off you the whole time!”

“I’ll hold you to that,” Ron said, turning on his heel and heading towards the Great Hall, pausing only to pick up Draco’s robe and sling it over his arm. The omega followed invisibly. As the pair stepped out into the light and sound of the corridor leading up to the Hall, he had to fight the urge to cover himself up.

Draco followed Ron as he sat at the Gryffindor Table, mostly empty on the quiet weekend morning. As his alpha reached for several different foods, mostly meats and eggs, he moved to crawl under the table. Keeping his head low he crawled towards Ron. Once he arrived at the correct crotch - it was impossible to mistake it, amongst the others at the table - he reached forward, his hands caressing the huge bulge in Ron’s pants before taking hold of the zipper and pulling it down. Over a foot of cock forced its way out, slapping lewdly against the omega’s cheek. He nuzzled the shaft for a moment before moving the to head, easily swallowing the first several inches until the head hit the top of his throat. Draco took a moment to collect himself and remember how he’d managed to take the whole thing the night before, then pressed forward until the whole ot Ron’s meat fully-seated down his throat. Satisfied with his alpha’s cock filling his mouth, Draco settled in to wait. 

The minutes ticked by without notice. The omega didn’t care, simply happy to be a cockwarmer for his alpha. He remained still on the shaft, only moving to keep the whole of the organ in his mouth.

Finally, a hand descended below the table to pat Draco on the head, and he knew instinctively his alpha was ready to leave. A little regretfully he retreated from the cock, giving the head one last lick and its slit a chaste kiss before packing it back up in Ron’s trousers - something of an effort, given its size. As the alpha stood, Draco began his task of crawling back out from under the table. As he went, though, something caught his eye: A pair of legs between which there sat a bulge almost as large as his own alpha’s. He noted the position of the legs as he went, and when he crawled out from the end of the table and stood, he turned to look. There, he saw what was unmistakably the dark-skinned Muggleborn student his sources had reported shared a room with Potter and his alpha. He had changed, though, grown and developed much like Ron, and to either side of him sat two boys with the telltale look of an omega - one the Longbottom heir, the other a half-blood Draco had never cared to learn the name of.

Tearing his eyes away from the trio, Draco cast about for Ron - not a hard task - and trotted after him, following faithfully behind. Before long, the alpha turned into an empty classroom and flicked his wand, causing Draco to fade back into visibility. 

“Well done, bitch,” Ron said, stroking his nealy-golden hair. “Just a shame you have to be invisible for this to happen. Can’t see your pretty lips on my cock.” 

“Well, if you want, we could make it that way alpha.” Draco said before he could think over his words. Ron’s eyes locked onto him, silently telling him to continue. “T-the castle wards could be altered to make it like there’s one big notice-me-not, or something along those lines. It would make everyone treat it as normal.” Seeing Ron’s look of surprise, he hastened to explain. “Father was on the board of governors. He knows where the wardstone is, and he told me.” 

“...With access to the wardstone, I can probably do that,” Ron said, tossing Draco his robe back. “No time like the present. Show me the way.” 

The omega pulled the garment on before stepping through the door, then began to lead the Gryffindor down and down, through the winding corridors and passageways of the dungeons. Their path quickly left the oft-travelled sections surrounding the Slytherin and Hufflepuff common rooms or the potions classrooms and descended further into the deeps. Draco had to mutter the directions his father had once told him under his breath to find the way. Finally, he stopped at what seemed a dead end, and began to tap the old flints of the walls seemingly at random. After several moments, one stone sank into the wall. A good shove there revealed a hidden door, swinging back into the wall.

The room beyond was bare, with walls, ceiling and floor of a smooth, black stone. In the air at the centre of the room hovered a dodecahedron of the same material. Distant stars twinkled, moved and died in its depths.

A heavy hand descended on Draco’s head, patting gently. He cozied up into the touch. “Well done, pet. Now, stay quiet while I work, hmm?”

The Slytherin nodded, getting down to his knees and waiting patiently as his alpha stood before the stone and chanted lowly, wand glowing as lines of fine text trailed from its tip, falling into the blackness as if under some impossible gravity. It was a long wait, and Draco felt himself drifting off for a moment before a wave of  _ something  _ seemed to wash over him, and Ron stepped away from the stone.

“Done. Now, come one,” Ron said, leaving the room behind. Draco followed, as he was quickly becoming accustomed to doing. Before long, they were back at the Great Hall, and Draco was surprised to find that since they had left breakfast hand ended and it seemed that lunch had begun and was pulling to a slow close. Had they really been in that black room for so long? His respect for his alpha, already high, shot up another notch. It was no small thing to conduct magic for hours on end.    
  
Relatively-few people remained in the hall. The staff table was empty, and the lower years had gone on. They didn’t have many free periods, compared to the upper years. It was only then, with the eyes of the remaining students idly passing over him and his alpha that Draco realized he had forgotten to put the robe back on when they’d left the chember. It was still slung over Ron’s arm, and he was naked! Some vestige of modesty compelled him to cover his crotch and blush - but a moment later he realized that, despite his state of dress, no-one seemed to really consider it strange. There were a couple of catcalls, but no-one really reacted. 

Meanwhile, Ron had reached the Gryffindor table and sat. He called over to Draco “Come on, bitch. You’ve got a cock to warm.” Cheeks bright with mortification, Draco obeyed, crossing the room to kneel below the table. He pulled his alpha’s cock from his pants and went to swallow it again before he found a hand on his face, holding him back. “No, puppy. With your other hole.”

Draco’s eyes widened in surprise, then he smiled beatifically, turned on his knees and thrust his ass up towards his alpha, tail wagging. Ron reached down and took the tail in hand, then yanked it out suddenly. Draco yelped at the surprise and loss, but the sound was quickly transformed into a long, drawn-out moan as the alpha fed the tip of his dick into the omega’s welcoming ass. Even with the exercise of the night before and the way his hole had been kept open with the plug since, the sheer girth of Ron’s cock stretched him wonderfully. 

A ringing slap landed on his newly-grown ass, which jiggled a little under the impact. “You like that, bitch? Like taking my cock under the table where anyone can see?” In answer, Draco crawled backwards, taking more of the organ. Before he could say anything, though, Ron continued. “Don’t answer. I know you’re a little cockslut for me.”

Unable to speak, Draco moaned instead, trying to put as much of his worshipful feelings into the sound as he could. A hard thrust from his alpha plunged the entire shaft into Draco, red pubes pressing against his hole. Without thinking he began to clench and unclench, trying to milk his alphas cock while he moaned, the sound being loud enough to draw another round of cat calls. 

“Fine slut you have there Weasley,” he heard a somewhat familiar voice say, unable to place it, just knowing that it wasn’t someone in his own house. “Mind if we borrow him?”

“Maybe later, Dean. If you do me a favor I could be convinced to share the slut,” Ron replied. Draco wasn’t certain he liked the idea of being shared - not because of the thing itself, btu because it would mean less time he could spend with his alpha.

“Fine, mate. Just don’t hog him forever,” he heard the other voice, Dean, say, before retreating footsteps sounded. Lunch went on this way, Draco trying to milk Ron and moaning while the redhead ate and chatted with others, completely ignoring him besides the occasional thrust. 

“Quite the change you’ve made,” a light, airy voice said above him, causing his awareness to come swimming back from the warm, full place he’d been. “The wards feel quite different now. It’s impressive what you’ve managed to change so quickly,” they continued. 

“Oh, you’re… Ginny’s friend, right?” Ron said. “Luna?”

“Yep!” said the voice cheerfully. “And this is my friend Cho. We want you to help us with some transfiguration.”

“You’re Ravenclaws, right? Don’t you have, like, a houseful of people who can help you with homework?”

“Well, kinda,” Luna replied. “But most of them have nargles and collywoks all around them, and anyway they wouldn’t be much help for the kind of stuff we want. But you’ve already done the potion we need, and you’re strong enough for the spell, too!”

From his position under the table, Draco blinked. How could she have known?

“Okay,” Ron said. “Come with me.” He stood, withdrawing his cock from Draco. The omega moaned in protest, but crawled out from under the table and stood to follow. Ron didn’t bother to close up his fly, instead just letting his cock hang out as he strode away, the two girls following - one blond-haired and wearing large, sparkly glasses, the other dark-haired and with an Asian cast to her features. Draco thought he remembered seeing her around the Quidditch pitch at some point - was she one of the Ravenclaw players?

Ron guided them back through the halls and dungeon to the room they had been brewing in earlier. Letting them in, Ron cast a spell on the door while Draco went to the desk where he had brewed the transformative potions earlier. There was still enough left for several doses, so he quickly measured those out before handing one to each of the girls. Cho looked at her vial for a few moments, a dubious look on her face. Luna however, uncorked the vial and downed it in an instant, which prompted the other Ravenclaw to follow suit.

Having locked the door, Ron turned his wand upon the two, starting to mutter a seemingly-endless chain of spells. Draco watched in awe as their features began to shift, becoming more masculine moment by moment. Luna’s hair grew shorter, dark streaks appearing in it. Their chin grew broader and their more angular. Their height remained the same, but Draco could see their body shifting beneath their robe, shoulders broadening slightly while their chest shrank. 

Cho’s change was far more dramatic, growing several inches taller, their face broadening with a strong jaw and pouty lips. Their hair pulled up till only short spikes remained. While Luna had grown a bit more broad, Cho’s frame had at least doubled in width across the shoulders, to the point that the very seams of their robe began to split. Their arms swelled with lean muscle. 

Finally, the spells came to an end and Ron stepped back, admiring the transformation he had wrought. “How are you feeling?” he asked. 

Luna just gave a thumbs up, bouncing on his heels, while Cho was dumbstruck, admiring his new form. Draco watched as the newly made stud tried flexing, only for their sleeves to tear from the strain, overwhelmed at trying to contain their newly enlarged form. “Wow,” he murmured, awed. 

“He’s awesome, isn’t he?”

It took Draco a moment to realize that he was the one who had spoken.

“It is… really cool,” Cho replied, still seeming a little overwhelmed. Seeing the state of his robe, he frowned. 

“Just take it off, silly,” said Luna, sidling up to him and tugging at his ruined sleeves. “You’ll need a new robe anyway, and alpha’s magic will make it so people won’t care.”

A flash of irrational anger pulsed through Draco as the Ravenclaw used such a familiar term for  _ his _ alpha. 

“And anyway,” the blond Ravenclaw continued, looking sidelong at Ron and Draco. “I think they deserve some thanks for what they did.”

Cho looked a little dubious of the idea, but evidently saw the wisdom of stipping out of what had become little more than barely-connected ribbons. Luna, meanwhile, had begun to move over towards Ron. Draco saw what he was doing, and didn’t like it, moving to intercept. He fell to his knees before the alpha, looking up imploringly. Luna joined him a moment later, while Cho quitely excused himself.   
  
“Good puppies share,” Ron said, placing a hand on both their heads.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For reference, Draco's new form looks more-or-less like Alam Wernik: https://twitter.com/wernikalam?lang=en
> 
> Warning: NSFW.


	3. 6: Innovation

At first, Ron coming and going from Draco’s room in the dungeons was marked with whispers, rumors and gossip. The scion of the Malfoy family was having - pause for effect - relations with a Gryffindor! And not just a Gryffindor, a boy from Gryffindor! And not just a boy from Gryffindor, Ron Weasley!

However, rumors could only last so long in the face of the plain reality of things. There just wasn’t much interest in gossipping about a forbidden relationship when neither of the participants in that relationship seemed to care about keeping it a secret. It was no secret that Draco was the one taking it, it was no secret that Draco had evidently spent a good portion of his allowance on physical touch-ups and body-alteration for Ron’s sake - where else could the Malfoy heir’s new look have come from? - and it was no secret that the two were in what a delicate soul might call an intense physical relationship. Or, as a more prosaic person might put it, they took every opportunity to make out and fuck like rabbits throughout the castle. 

Still, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle weren’t the brightest candles in the Great Hall, so it took them a while to realize that something serious might be up.

They didn’t always understand Draco, they knew the blonde was smarter than them, more cunning and usually had a plan, so they didn’t question the changes to his behaviour at first. They thought he was luring Weasley into a trap, trying to get something from him that would help the Pureblood agenda. They kept silent until the first time they heard howling from Draco’s room. Cries of “More, alpha! Harder! Fuck me harder!” and the unmistakable grunting of Weasley let them know something was wrong. 

They watched Draco closely for the next few days and realized that Draco wasn’t trying to lead Weasley on, but seemed to be in love with the blood traitor. They’d caught the pair fucking in over a dozen places over just one weekend, and weren’t sure how to feel about Draco taking it from Ron, and apparently loving every moment of it. But when they caught Draco coming out of his room, hair messed and smelling of sex that they managed to confront him. 

“Salazar’s balls Draco, what’s up with you and Weasley?” Crabbe said, looming over Draco, unused to trying to intimidate their friend. “You’ve been banging Weasley for weeks now, what’s the point of fucking a blood-traitor, or even enjoying it, if you’re not trying to get something from him?” he demanded. Goyle crossed his arms and nodded in agreement. 

“What I do with R- With Weasley is my own business,” Draco replied, indignantly. The effect was slightly ruined by his flushed features and puffy lips, which made it look more bratty and petulant than anything else. The fact that he was wearing nothing but a tight jockstrap and a leather collar whose tag read ‘Gryffindor Bitch’ didn’t really help either.

“Your father told us to keep an eye on you,” Crabbe said. “An’ we could make it his business, if we need to.”

Draco frowned. “There’s no need to bring him into it.” 

“He told us to keep an eye on you,” Goyle echoed. “Why shouldn’ we tell him?”

“Because I’m telling you not to,” Draco said, puffing his chest out. “You’re meant to listen to me while we’re at Hogwarts, right?”

Crabbe looked at Goyle. “So, what does that mean for the thing?”

Goyle’s brow furrowed in thought, then cleared. He turned to Draco. “You, uh. You take it up the arse from Weasley, right?”

Draco nodded proudly.

“My da says that men who take it up the arse from other men are bitches who don’t need to be listened to,” Goyle said to Crabbe with an air of one imparting great and profound wisdom. “So, we should ignore what Draco says, and tell his da.”

“If you don’t stop letting Weasley fuck you,” Crabbe added to Draco. Then, in a spirit of charity, “If you need us to help get rid of him, just tell us. But you gotta stop letting him fuck you before...” He trailed off.

“Sunday,” Goyle volunteered.

“Sunday,” Crabbe repeated, “We’ll tell Lord Malfoy. Got it, bitch?” he added, trying out the new term as it applied to Draco.

“Got it,” Draco grit out, clenching his teeth as Crabbe and Goyle turned to head back to the common room. Shit, alpha isn’t going to be happy with this, he thought. Stepping back into his room, Draco couldn’t help but admire his alpha, radiant with an after-glow. He lay on the dark green sheets, skin sheened with sweat and glistening in the fire light. Around them was an assortment of sex toys Ron had purhcased to use on him. 

“Alpha,” Draco spoke, nervous about what he was about to report, “we may have an issue.”

“What,” Ron said, rolling his head to gaze at Draco with half lidded eyes, voice rumbling at being broken out of his blissful state. 

“My, um. Crabbe and Goyle seem to dislike us sleeping together,” Draco started, ringing his hands, “And said that they would tell my father if I didn’t stop sleeping with you before Sunday.” 

“I see,” Ron trailed off, sitting up and narrowing his eyes, displeased at what Draco said. Ron felt something in him rumble, angry at the threat of something that was his being taken away from him. 

“Well,” Ron said, reaching for the book he seemed to carry everywhere with him, “That gives us a few days to give them an answer, doesn’t it?”

“I guess so,” Draco said, crawling into bed, pushing aside a couple of the toys and snuggling up into his alpha. “What should we do?”

Ron rolled over, pressing his cock against Draco’s ass as he formed the big spoon. “We could make them omegas,” he suggested. “All cute and submissive, just like you.”

A hot spike of jealous possessiveness shot through Draco. “I… don’t really think that’s a good idea,” he said.

Ron could sense the sudden tension in his omega. “And why’s that?” Draco pursed his lips, but didn’t answer verbally, instead pushing back onto Ron.

“Jealous?” Ron asked, feeling his cock begin to harden again as it ran between Draco’s smooth, round asscheeks. 

“I guess so,” Draco admitted. “I… don’t really want to share you like that.”

“You’re so cute,” Ron said, wrapping his arms around the Slytherin and pulling him into his muscular chest. “Though, remember I’m the one in charge here,” he gently rebuked. “Good bitches obey their alphas.”

“I know,” Draco whined. “But I still don’t want them to be omegas too. It makes me feel like I’m not good enough for you.”

“That’s not right,” Ron said. “You’re my good little fuckbitch, aren’t you? My obedient omega cumslut.” He underlined his words by smoothly thrusting his cock along the line of Draco’s ass. “I’m not saying they’d be anything like you; they’d just be… I dunno. Servants. Maybe I’d even let you boss them around sometimes.”

“Maybe. But I don’t want them to be omegas. I’m an omega. If they’re not going to be good bitches for an alpha, they shouldn’t get to be omegas.”

“That’s a point,” Ron conceded. 

“Couldn’t you just, like, spell them up like you did me? Before I was a proper omega,” Draco hastened to add.

“Maybe, but then I’d either just be stopping them from talking, which doesn’t feel like an appropriate punishment for trying to get between an alpha and his omega, or I’d have to enchant them all the way, which is illegal.”

Draco had a sudden idea. Between an alpha and an omega. He wriggled in the bed, turning over so that he was face to face with his alpha, their chests almost touching. “Do you think we could make them something like omegas, but not properly omegas? Good and obedient, but not... like me.”

Ron blinked, then grinned. “Good idea, Draco!” he said, like the Slytherin was a puppy which had just done a trick.

Draco smiled in turn at the compliment, then held on as Ron grabbed his shoulders and turned to pull the omega on top of him so that he was almost sitting on his cock. “Now, first you’re going to get your reward, then we’ll get down to work.”

Draco sank down with infinite satisfaction.

* * *

“Crabbe, Goyle! I need to speak with you.”

Turning, Crabbe and Goyle spotted Draco heading towards them. He wore in a tight-fitting shirt that ended just above his nipples and left his arms bare, and only a jockstrap on his lower body. 

“Really, bitch? Did you stop seeing that blood traitor yet?” Crabbe spat, having seen Draco limping with a smile on his face earlier that day, and a very smug looking Ron beside him. “You ‘member what we said? Seem like your da’s gonna hear that he has a bitch for a son.”

Draco forced down the anger he felt at Crabbe’s words, forcing his face to remain neutral. “That’s actually why I came over. There’s something I needed to say that will hopefully change your mind.”

“Really? It better be good if you think we won’t tell you da’ about you bein’ a bitch-boy,” Goyle laughed.

“You’ll have to see for yourselves,” Draco started, making his way towards a staircase. “I’ll show you.”

Crabbe looked at Goyle. Goyle looked at Crabbe. They both looked at their former boss’s retreating ass, rounded and bountiful as Draco’s hips swayed from side to side. They followed. 

Draco led them down a flight of stairs, then into a long corridor. As he turned a corner, he felt a hand suddenly grab his ass and squeeze, roughly. He wasn’t unused to such groping from his alpha, but it startled him now. He whipped around to find Goyle grinning back at him. “Whatcha gonna do, bitch?”

The omega’s hand reflexively moved to where he had kept his wand, before, but then he remembered he didn’t have it. As usual, his alpha had it. Omegas didn’t need wands unless their alphas said, after all. Deprived of a worthwhile answer - and it was probably better he didn’t have the wand anyway; an impulsive curse now would have screwed up the whole plan - Draco simply turned and carried on. After a minute, the hand returned, squeezing and massaging his bubble-butt. A second joined it on the other side, and squeezes turned to pinches as the two Slytherins laughed. The omega had to work hard to push down his fury. Ron had made Draco’s ass for himself. It wasn’t for these two!

Finally, though, they reached the Slytherin common room and climbed the stairs to Draco’s room. “In here,” he said, pulling it open and stepping inside. Crabbe and Goyle followed, only to find the room as it always was. They turned to Draco. “The fuck d’you think you’re doing-”

They only got that far before a pair of pale spells hit them, freezing them in place. Ron’s disillusionment charm faded, revealing him standing in front of the bed.  
“Excellent work pet. Now why don’t you get the potion while I tell these two about how they’ve displeased me,” Ron said, crossing his arms. Draco moved to the cabinet next to the bed. 

“Now, I think you know why I’m angry, but let me spell it out for your idiots,” Ron started, waving his wand. Crabbe and Goyle found their bodies moving without their will, closing the door behind them, then getting to their knees. 

Crabbe and Goyle got a look at their attacker and simultaneously gulped, nervous about the situation they were in. Ron was shirtless, a leather harness clinging to his torso, pushing his pecs up and out, while his lower body was clad in leather shorts that did nothing to hide his bulge. 

“You tried to take what is mine. No one takes my pet,” Ron growled, something inside him purring when he saw them both shudder with fear. “You threatened Draco, and would have caused problems for us. Now while Draco and I tossed around a few ideas, we settled on making you a bit more receptive to our relationship, but giving you a taste of what it’s like for him,” Ron finished. 

“Now, to see with what I’m working with,” he muttered to himself, waving his wand and banishing Crabbe’s and Goyle’s clothing. He gave them a once over, noting that while both were on the heavier side, they had a decent amount of muscle as well. Crabbe being more the muscular of the two while Goyle was taller. “Hmm, not bad,” he said, loud enough for them to hear.

Meanwhile, Draco had returned from the adjoining room. In each hand was a vial of a milk-white potion.

“Give the two betas their potion,” Ron said, turning his back on them and sitting on the end of the bed. “Then, come over here and we’ll show them what a proper omega can do, hmm?”

“Yes, alpha!” Draco replied eagerly. He crossed the room and knelt in front of the two larger Slytherins, raising one of the vials to Crabbe’s lips. He kept them stubbornly shut. Draco sighed. “Alpha, they’re not drinking it.”

Ron flicked his wand, and the two boys’ mouths fell open. “Thank you!” Draco said merrily as he poured one vial down Crabbe’s throat, then the second down Goyle’s. 

Ron hummed. “You know what, pet? These betas are going to need a lot of work to get good at their job. Go fetch two of your toys and let them start practicing with their mouths now.”

Draco nodded and hopped to his feet. He crossed to the cabinet where the toys were kept and, after a moment’s debate, picked two out. He knelt beside Goyle first, showing him the dildo which was going to fill his mouth. It was large, both long and thick, with prominent veins along its surface. At its base, two large, round balls hung. If the thing weren’t cast in black rubber, it might have been mistaken for a real cock, albeit a very large one. “You’re probably gonna want to breathe through your nose,” Draco said as he began to insert the dildo, pushing it past Goyle’s lips. “The potion’ll let you breathe even with it down your throat, don’t worry.” The dildo was warm in his hands, and the balls hung heavy. The magic of… well, magic. Once those balls were flush with the boy’s lips, Draco moved on to Crabbe.

The false dick Draco had chosen for Crabbe was somewhat smaller than Goyle’s, and of quite a different shape. Instead of human-shaped, this one was modelled on a dog, made of red material with a tapering end. “Same goes for you, Crabbe,” Draco said, lowering it in. Once it was all the way in, he put a finger on the wide, flared base and began to gently move it in a circle. Inside Crabbe’s mouth, the base of the false cock began to inflate into a knot. Draco kept going until the knot filled Crabbe’s mouth before stopping. 

Draco took a moment to admire Crabbe and Goyle, both struggling around the fake cocks in their throats. He knew that they were large, for the average wizard at least, but with how Ron had been fucking him, he could take both at the same with with little discomfort. “Not bad you two. You’ll need some training, but I’m sure that you’ll meet alpha’s standards eventually,” Draco said, looking to Ron. “Do you want to cast the spell so they can really practice?” He asked. 

“May as well,” Ron shrugged, casting a bright pink spell at each of the dildos. 

Crabbe’s eyes widened slightly when he felt the cock in his throat throb, the warm rubber warming in his throat as it started to twitch slightly, making light thrusts inside him, and reacting to his gagging. Goyle’s reaction was much the same, his throat bulging around the cock in him. Both boys wanted to struggle, to pull the fake cocks out, but couldn’t do anything with the spell still holding them in place. 

“Good slut, now why don’t you give me a hand so we can show them what they have to look forward to,” Ron said, palming his growing cock, the head moving down one of his legs until the head was peeking out from the leather. He could feel Goyle and Crabbe staring at him, and smirked at their startled expressions when they saw his hard cock. Draco quickly moved over to him, eagerly sinking to his knees and chastely kissing the exposed head. Having given his alpha’s cock the affection it deserved he craned upwards and caught the zipper of Ron’s shorts in his teeth, pulling it down. Then, he took the base of the cock between his plump lips and, carefully, pulled it up and out until it fell across his face. 

Crabbe and Goule couldn’t help but be surprised at the size of it, their eyes widening. Draco cast a glance backwards, a smirk curling his lips as he saw the first of the changes begin to take shape. The two Slytherins were beginning to grow a little in size, their muscles becoming more defined as their cocks started to thicken and lengthen. Then he returned to the task at hand, spreading his lips around Ron’s cockhead and, in one motion, swallowing his tremendous manhood to the base. He rocked back and forth on it, feeling it push down his throat, until Ron’s hand settled on his hair.

“That’s a good job, puppy,” he said, “But it’s time to show our new betas what an omega can really do.”

Draco pulled off Ron’s cock, making a loud ‘pop’ sound as he gave it a last strong suck. “Yes, alpha,” he said, standing and straddling Ron’s lap, his slick-dripping ass resting just above the tip of the cock he’d just been worshiping. Without any hesitation, he impaled himself on his master, sinking down until he’d taken half of it. His legs quivered, as they always did when his alpha was inside of him. Just as he was about to lift himself off, hands settled on his shoulders, pushing him down further. 

“None of that bitch, you need to show them that you can take it all in one stroke,” Ron said, thrusting his hips up while slamming Draco down, fully seating himself inside the whimpering omega. He looked over Draco’s shoulder at Crabbe and Goyle, the changes occurring faster now as fat flowed into muscle and their cocks seemed to swell bigger with each throb. Their eyes were locked on Draco and Ron, unblinking and enraptured. Leaning forward a bit, he whispered in Draco’s ear. “Good job, bitch. My new betas seem to like the show,” he started, before grabbing his hips and shifting his legs. 

Without warning, Ron spun Draco around on his cock so he was facing his former lackies. He wrapped his arms under Draco’s, making sure he had his weight before standing, supporting his omega with just his arms and cock, letting him fall back onto his shaft. “But this is how an alpha fucks,” he said, bucking his hips up into the omega. Draco yelped as he was wholly supported by the cock in him for a moment. The force of the thrust bounced him back up the shaft, where Ron’s arms took that momentum and lifted him until he was almost off, then let him fall again. “Ah! Ah! Ah!” Draco yelled, each thrust pushing another cry of pleasure out of him. His cock, not small by normal means but almost comically tiny in comparison to Ron’s monster, flopped and danced in the air before him, precum leaking from its tip. Answering, thin drizzles began to trickle from the betas’ growing cocks.

“Tell the betas what an omega is for,” Ron growled in Draco’s ear, his hands moving to hook underneath Draco’s legs, pulling them up against his chest so as to expose his hole better. Slick dripped down the alpha’s shaft and ran over his leather shorts.

“An omega - ah! - is a cocksleeve - ah! - for his alpha - ugh, oh god!” Draco began. The words were an effort of will. “The omega - ah! - submits to his alpha - ah! - and is his - uh! - fuckpet!”

“Good boy,” Ron crooned. Goyle and Crabbe couldn’t look away, awed by the harsh fucking before them. The entire time they were nursing the dildos in their throats, Crabbe massaging the base of the dildo’s knot, feeling it throb faster in his mouth. Goyle did the same, working the head of the dildo with his throat. Both of them had the same thoughts: What would Ron taste like? What would it feel like to be in Draco’s place? What would Draco’s ass feel like, wrapped around their cocks?

Draco was looking at Crabbe and Goyle with unfocused eyes, fucked stupid with pleasure and only noticing the smell coming off of his the other two. Their scents had shifted since the potion started its work, slowly becoming spicy and sweet, somewhere between omega and alpha. His toes curled when Ron gave him a brutal thrust, a cry forced out of him, and exciting their audience. He could see their cocks leaking all over their thighs, weeping despite not having been touched once. 

“Now, shall we give these two betas what they want?”

Draco nodded furiously.

“Alright, then!” So saying, the alpha thrust up once more into the omega’s ass and let loose, filling him with hot, thick cum. Draco had almost become used to it by now, but the sheer quantity somehow always managed to surprise him.

Abruptly, Crabbe and Goyle realized that their bodies were no longer confined by magic. They were free! Their hands moved to explore their new bodies; the sculpted muscles and massive cocks. When their eyes met those of the alpha, though, they felt an immediate, reflexive submissiveness.

“Now, I’m gonna tell you two betas what you’re meant for.” Crabbe and Goyle listened eagerly. “You’re meant to serve an alpha, obeying his every whim. When he gives permission, you’re to obey his omega as well. You’re going to do whatever we want, serving us hand and foot. You know why?”

Crabbe and Goyle didn’t know why, but they wanted to. They shook their heads.

“Because we know best, and because you want to. You might look like alphas, but you’re not. You’re betas, and that means you want someone else to make the decisions for you, so you can focus on doing what you’re meant to. Got that?”

Crabbe and Goyle nodded. The alpha’s words resonated with them on a level they’d never really felt or even considered before. They were absolutely true; how could they not be? 

“Such good, obedient betas we’ve got here,” Ron praised. “Why don’t you take those fake cocks out of your mouths and get a taste of the real thing?”

Obeying, Goyle reached up to take the dildo out of his throat, then helped Crabbe deflate the knot on his. As soon as they were done, they crossed the room and knelt at Ron’s feet. Crabbe drove his face into Draco’s ass, licking up the alpha’s cum where it leaked out of the hole. Goyle, meanwhile, stretched up a little further to take Draco’s cock into his mouth, sucking it blissfully.

“Don’t you think our betas are being good?” Ron asked Draco. The omega was still a little out of it, but managed to raise a hand to pet Goyle’s hair. “Good puppies...” he said.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, comments more than welcome. Though I've got, like 8 'chapters' of ideas to continue this with, so any suggestions you have might be a while in the writing. :D


End file.
